


Penance

by GrimSylphie



Category: The Old Guard (Comics), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Booker | Sebastien le Livre Needs Therapy, Booker | Sebastien le Livre Whump, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, Exiled Booker | Sebastien le Livre, Gen, Old Guard Kink Meme Fill, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:47:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27263722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrimSylphie/pseuds/GrimSylphie
Summary: Now that he’s alone Booker realizes that penance doesn’t come solely in the form of his exile. It also comes from the memories that haunt him and leave him unable to keep food down. Soon enough, it becomes easier to not eat at all.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache & Booker | Sebastien le Livre & Joe | Yusuf al-Kaysani & Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Booker | Sebastien le Livre & Nile Freeman
Comments: 10
Kudos: 117





	Penance

**Author's Note:**

> A quick fill for [this](http://theoldguardkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1468.html?thread=221116#cmt221116%E2%80%9D%20rel=) kink meme prompt.

It starts innocuously enough. At first he didn’t even realize he was doing it. Booker knew how to cook as a necessity. It wasn’t something he enjoyed, or even something he particularly excelled at beyond a few dishes his wife taught him. Without the team Booker did as he always had during longer periods alone and resorted to take out or food from street vendors depending on the location and availability provided by his current location. 

He ate only when hungry which in the beginning was once or twice a day. He tried to eat when he was working because anything else made him nauseous. Sitting down to eat at a table just reminded him of the family meals Nicky or Joe cooked during downtime. The ones that they would spend all day in the kitchen for, shooing everyone out who tried to enter, until they finally presented a feast in the evening.  
If he thought too long about it, he wondered if they started making healthier dishes now that Andy was mortal. 

Remembering that Andy was mortal now and that he had nearly killed her without even knowing made his stomach clench. He found himself rushing to the bathroom to throw up in the porcelain bowl once he started to feel bile rising in his throat. The same incident was repeated when he remembered the way Nicky and Joe would argue over spices or sauces or when he remembered that Nile would be there now with a confidence and zeal for life that he had never possessed. Needless to say, after more than a few thrown up meals, food became far less appealing. 

Still, he found times when even working at his laptop or eating on the go wasn’t enough. Sense memory was a strong thing and Booker never knew what would throw him off, the scent of a particular combination of spices or fresh baklava could immediately kill his appetite. 

That all was to say nothing of his drinking. The first few days alone he drank himself into a stupor but as his appetite wanted so did his desire to drink. He would remember debating what weather conditions and what age the vines should be to produce the best wine and it put him off wine for a week. He couldn’t touch rum, after remembering the stories Andy, Joe, and Nicky told him about their short stint as pirates in the 1700s during his first passage to the states as a new immortal in the 1830s. It seemed whiskey, beer, and everything in between sparked some memory of his family that soon had him forcing down the urge to expel what little he did manage to eat. Soon it wasn’t even worth the effort to drink any longer. 

Of course not drinking provided its own set of problems. It led to withdraw. While he didn’t risk death the way a normal person would he didn’t have to suffer through fevers and chills with his healing only kicking in when it seemed to become unbearable.

All of these things combined made Booker’s first six months alone the most miserable of his immortal life. Then one day it clicked. This suffering was the same thing he was killed for trying to run away from in Russia. He hadn’t wanted to starve so he chose to try and run home even though he knew he might end up in the noose. Starvation was one of his biggest fears and now he couldn’t escape it. Perhaps that was his true punishment? It wasn’t enough to be alone, missing the company and mental stimulation that regular contact with his family provided. He needed to subject himself to the physical pain that hungry provided. Only then would he be allowed to repent.

Once he realized that it became easier. He avoided meals as much as possible, trying to make sure that what little he did consume was bland or tasteless so as to not trigger an emotional reaction that would lead to heaving the small amounts he did intake into the nearest toilet or waste bin. For the most part he stuck to broths and crackers if he had done something particularly good.

He saw that his lack of nutrition was changing his body. Soon clothes that fit him well hung from his frame. He no longer felt warmth and nearly always bundled himself in at least three layers of clothing before leaving his house. His muscles weren’t spared either. He used to have toned arms and abs but each day his ribs showed more and more and with it his muscle showed less and less.

By the time he was two years into his exile he had died three times from malnutrition. The tricky thing about that was that while his body would revive. He was left with very low energy stores to regain what was lost. He had witnessed the vicious cycle of it once when they were stuck in a war zone with little to eat. Now, Booker had figured it out. He’d grab a can of broth or an energy drink from wherever he had stashed it away, drink it, and then sleep off the death before returning to his regular life.

By the time he was five years into his exile he had it down to a perfect science. He knew exactly how much he needed to survive and took no more so as to not interfere with his punishment. He knew exactly what to wear and how to hide himself so that people didn’t notice just how thin he was and how sunken and lifeless his eyes looked. 

This process sustained him for a very long time. By his estimates he was somewhere past twenty years into his punishment when he ran into Nile.

You would think that with all of the billions of people in the world that it would be easy enough to avoid the roughly five people who knew him but he was trained by Andy which meant he followed similar patterns to his teammates. It’s how he found himself cursing and sliding into an alley in Cologne, Germany. 

He took deep breaths. He hoped maybe he was wrong or maybe Nile didn’t see him. He had exerted most of what little energy he had attempting to escape. They didn’t want to see him for one hundred years. He couldn’t afford to break that and risk being banished for longer.

When he finally caught his breath, he looked over, trying to check if the coast was clear only to find himself face to face with Nile Freeman.

She looked the same, which went without saying. She still kept up with the modern fashions as far as he could tell, not that he had kept a close eye. Her braided hair was more intricate than the last time he saw her. 

He tried to back away but she followed until he felt his back hitting the alley wall. Nile grabbed his hood and pulled it back so she could get a better look at his face. 

Booker looked down, slightly embarrassed that she caught him so easily. Perhaps she was just making certain he was properly performing his penance. 

“Book, you look like shit.” She remarked.

Booker felt his face flush. Wasn’t that the point of all this? He was supposed to be alone and miserable. Isn’t think what they wanted?

“Come with me, let’s get you cleaned up.” She offered, but he was certain from her tone it was an order.

“I still have at least seven more decades.” He remarked, quietly.

“Frankly, I don’t care, Book. I never agreed with the punishment and I am not going to abandon you when you seem to be struggling. We’ll go to a hotel if you really don’t want to break your word to the others.” She told him, taking his hand in hers and leading him from the alleyway.

Her hand was warm. He forgot how warm another’s touch could be. He found himself being pulled along, too tired and shocked to resist. 

Before he knew it, Nile had found a hotel that was nice but not so fancy that Booker would stick out. She left him in the lobby while she spoke to the front desk. He was sure he saw the concierge looking at him as if he was going to rob the place but Booker couldn’t help that the hoodie he wore over three other layers and pants that were just a tad too large made him look shabby. He hadn’t worn his vest when he had just planned on going out to run some errands. 

Before the man got a chance to say anything to him, Nile was back leading Booker to the elevator and up to a room. 

Once they were inside she foisted a robe at him and told him to shower. He didn’t really have the heart to tell her that he had showered yesterday, his hair only looked so unhealthy because he was trying his best to repent. He had made her first days as an immortal difficult enough, he wasn’t going to argue now.

He stripped off his clothes and caught a glimpse of himself in the numerous hotel mirrors. For a second he wondered why they always seemed to have so many before he hastily looked away. A small vain part of him hated to see that his muscle was gone, that his body was just a shattered shell that couldn’t die, but he knew this is what had to happen, it was part of his punishment. If it wasn’t then the memories of what he did wouldn’t haunt him and turn his very stomach against him.

When Booker stepped out of the shower, not even ten minutes later he heard Nile on the phone.

“Doesn’t look well...” she said. “... skittish...” she added. A pause and then. “...not meant to be alone.” Based on the way the sound came in and out it seemed she was probably pacing the room. He knew she was almost certainly speaking to the others. Nothing else made sense. 

He thought about trying to dart out and run. She hadn’t taken his clothes from him while he was in the shower. Still, she would almost certainly be able to run him down and catch him. He hesitated at the doorknob, as if he could avoid it just by staying behind the door. 

“Yeah. See you then.” He heard. He waited for a few moments longer before finally getting up the courage to open the door.

He had put his clothes back on. He didn’t want to be vulnerable right now. Yet even with his clothing adding protective layers he still felt like Nile was seeing through him. 

“Hey Book, you feeling better?” She asked, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he felt fine before she found him.

“Yes.” He replied curtly.

“Good. The others are coming by. They’re worried about you.” Nile added.

Booker grimaced. He was worried that might cost him longer away or that they wouldn’t be satisfied with his penance and increase his sentence. He tried to push down those thoughts and argued to himself that his family loved him and wouldn’t dare be that cruel. He tried to voice all of this but instead a meek “It hasn’t been one hundred years.” fell from his lips.

Nile seemed to agree with that sentiment. “You’re right, it hasn’t but they’re more worried about you than adhering to the terms of the exile.”

“They shouldn’t be. I’m fine.” Booker tried to argue. Nile replied with a look that left no further room for debate. 

Booker was worried it would be a terrible awkward wait for the others to arrive. He thought he might end up feeling like a teen who got caught up to no good waiting to face his parent’s wrath. To his surprise there was none of that. 

“Okay, so I probably shouldn’t say this but you know that weird look Nicky gets on his face that all but guarantees he expects and demands Joe jump him in the next five minutes.” Nile comments.

“Yeah.” Booker replied, intensely familiar with that particular gaze. He was unsure where this conversation was going.

“Is it too much to ask that he not make it while Joe is in the middle of cooking dinner? I mean, I get it, he’s horny but can’t it wait long enough that the food doesn’t burn.” Nile complained. 

“Ha!” Booker barked out a laugh despite himself. “One would think after one thousand years together they could get through a dinner without dropping their pants half way through but alas.”

“Ugh, seriously.” Nile agreed. “And Andy, has zero self preservation no matter how many times I try to explain that she can’t do things like jump out of a plane without a parachute now that she’s mortal.”

Booker sighed. He wasn’t surprised by this news. “She’s been immortal for a long time. It takes a long time to lose that fear of jumping into a situation you know will kill you. Even now I think I would run from the noose even though I know I’ll revive from it. Andy doesn’t have that fear. Nicky and Joe only fear that they’ll be separated. It’s not something that is easy to understand. I’m still trying to understand it.” He admitted. 

“You’re an asshole you know.” Nile replied “I love them but they’ve been doing this for so long I feel like I may never understand and here you are with all the answers.”

Before he had the chance to answer there was a knock at the door. 

Booker looked down when Nile went to answer it. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment wishing it all away like a bad dream. 

It was not to be though. Soon enough his family was barreling into the room. “Where is the bastard?” Joe asked. He found himself wincing and trying to curl in on himself. They were mad.

He was shocked to feel arms wrapping around him and pulling him up off the bed. “Book, I missed you.” 

He starred off into the distance, too shocked to understand what was going on. Joe wasn’t angry. At least he wasn’t acting like he was. He should be. Booker messed up. He betrayed them and now he couldn’t even stick to exile. 

When Joe finally pulled away. He saw a strange look in Joe’s eyes. He didn’t have time to think about it before Andy was wrapping her arms around him. He wrapped his arms around Andy lightly but she only pulled him closer. Her hands seemingly searching for something. She tensed the moment she felt along his ribs.

“Book, how long have you been without food?” She asked pulling back. 

Booker looked down. He wasn’t sure why she was asking. Wasn’t this part of it? Wasn’t that the reason his stomach turned every time he tried to eat? 

“I had something yesterday.” He offered. It wasn’t technically a lie. He did eat some vegetable broth in the late afternoon. 

“I’ve brought some food. Nile said you might need it. I’ll heat it up for you.” Nicky commented. He looked up but was unable to catch the Genoan’s eyes to see what he was thinking. 

“Nicky, I appreciate it but I shouldn’t even be here with all of you. You don’t need to feed me just because I skipped a meal here and there.” He tried to play it off.

“Nonsense. We may have our differences but we’re still family. If you’re struggling we’re hear to help.” Joe added.

Booker looked down. He was somewhat confused. 

“We aren’t meant to be alone.” Nile added.

“You betrayed us Book, and we were hurt, we needed time to heal. I was hoping that you would heal too.” Andy explained. “If your struggling without us, we want to help you.” 

“I’m fine. I should serve out the rest of the exile.” Booker objected. 

“Book, you aren’t eating again. It’s not okay. This isn’t some kind of penance. We’d never ask that of you.” Joe jumped in trying to stop himself from shouting.

Booker recoiled. 

Nile shouted “Again!?” Followed by “He’s done this before??”

Nicky came back in with a bowl of soup. “It just has rice in it. It’s a beef broth so hopefully you can take in some protein.” He explained.

Booker looked at the older immortal and frowned. He wasn’t really hungry but he knew he wouldn’t get away without taking a few bites. He tried to hold off by answering Nile. “No, I’ve never starved before.”

“Not for more than a few days.” Andy replied.

“I’m sorry if I couldn’t always eat after seeing the aftermath of genocide or spending the night drowning in my nightmares.” Booker snapped back. “That’s not what this is at all.” 

“Then what is it?” Nile asked, genuinely curious.

“I’m a coward. I’ve always been a coward. I didn’t want to die starving so I tried my luck and died on the end of a rope. That death gave me a new life and while I hated a lot of it, I loved my new family.” Booker but his lower lip. “I fucked up. I only wanted to give us a way out. I didn’t want to admit I was sacrificing them in a trap. Then during exile I find myself unable to hold food down, what was I supposed to think?” Booker found himself raising his voice. “I needed to pay for my mistakes. I needed to stop running away from pain. This was a small price to pay knowing you would all be there at the end.”

“We’re here now. We forgive you. We need to talk to make sure this won’t happen again but you can eat now.” Andy ordered. “We don’t want to see you suffer any longer.” She explained earnestly.

He looked to Nicky and Joe to see what they thought. “She’s right as usual. We didn’t want to hurt you Sebastien. We just needed time apart because we were angry and hurt. You were hurt too though and our inability to understand that is what got us into this mess in the first place.” Joe argued, eloquent as usual.

“I don’t deserve forgiveness.” Booker mumbled. He knew if he accepted their kindness now that would be it for him. He wouldn’t be able to leave when they told him it was time to finish out his sentence.

“That isn’t up to you.” Nicky chimed in. “You wronged us and we determined your punishment. You were penitent, perhaps more than we wanted or expected. You know what you did wrong and you are sorry for it. That is enough for us to say you have earned forgiveness. Things won’t be the way they were. We’ve been through too much for that. We expect you to return home with us though. So eat up before you pass out.” 

Booker returned to his food with some suspicion. He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop but he didn’t dare argue with them all.

“So that’s it?” Nile asked, incredulous. “I asked you for years if he could return home and you say yes the moment you see how much your exile physically affected him?” 

“I mean, we needed time but yeah.” Joe answered.

“We would have called him home sooner or later, your finding him was just a sign that we should do so sooner.” Nicky agreed.

“Enough. We can talk more about this when we get home and we’re all in a better state for it.” Andy offered. 

For his part, Booker was unsure. He knew he wanted to return to his family but this sounded too good to be true. For all he thought about what he’d say when he was finally allowed to return nothing felt appropriate but after half the bowl his stomach felt full in a way it hadn’t in a long time and he wasn’t even nauseous for it, so perhaps that was a sign that things were meant to change.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to kind of convey Booker’s depression brain leading him to spiral and think the worst. If he considered it logically he knows the team wouldn’t want or expect him to starve himself but he can’t eat because he can’t stop thinking about what he did and so he jumps to the conclusion that this too must be part of his penance. 
> 
> The team will get him back on the right track but it will be slow going and probably involve a lot of heartfelt conversations and maybe a bit of therapy.


End file.
